


sun-drenched dream

by dizzyondreams



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, bakery boy jean and his cute bf, slice of life ?? i guess, they're french, well it's set in france
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Besides, he had a real nice thing going on with the cute son of a local winemaker that he didn’t want to sacrifice just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sun-drenched dream

Jean awoke to the dawn sunlight shining through his windows, and his mother shouting up the stairs for him to wake up and help make the bread. He groaned, considered ignoring her, thought of the wrath that that would bring down, and dragged himself out of bed for a shower. Really, four am was too early for _anyone_ to be awake. Especially a seventeen year old boy on summer break. He could probably file some sort of child labour case against his mother, but thought better of it as she yelled up the stairs for the third time that morning. She’d skin him alive, probably. Then force him to make bread anyway. 

Jean’s family lived above a fairly popular bakery in a tiny French town in the Aldeche. It meant waking up at the ass crack of dawn to make bread in a boiling hot kitchen before the customers came for their morning pastries and baguettes. Jean was practically a child slave, but at least he got to take the bread van out to the houses just out of town after the shop opened for the morning. His sisters were too young to drive, and his father had split so early Jean couldn’t remember him, so it was up to him to deliver the bread while his mother worked the bakery.

Besides, he had a real nice thing going on with the cute son of a local winemaker that he didn’t want to sacrifice just yet.

Bread making was a sticky, sweaty process, and by the time enough loaves had been baked that he could load the van up, Jean was flushed red in the face and covered in flour. He brushed himself off to the best of his ability and began boxing up the pastries under his mother’s watchful eye.

“Those’re pastries that the Jaeger’s ordered.” His mother told him, one eye on the ovens and the other on how Jean was carefully packaging the delicate cakes. “And bread for all the usuals. Be quick about it, because I need you to take the girls to swimming at ten.”

“Yes, mum.” Jean intoned, and grabbed the keys for the van off the hook before edging carefully out the door, arms stacked with the pastry boxes, as the first few customers started coming in.

It was nice, this early in the morning, driving out of the village and into the countryside, past rolling fields and vineyards. Too early for the real heat of the sun to set in, but warm enough that Jean rolled down the window to enjoy the breeze and the smell of fresh grass. Sometimes his life wasn’t so bad, he reflected, driving along a bumpy road in a shitty blue van towards a cute boy and friendly customers.

The boy’s name was Eren, and they’d been hooking up for a few months now. Covert little meetings when either of them weren’t working , or when Jean came early enough that they could spend a leisurely few minutes making out on the side of his van. Eren was a pretty little tan thing with big green eyes, a year younger than Jean and his once-declared arch enemy. He went to the same school as Jean, where they kept up the impression that they were no more than casual enemies, a relic of when they were fourteen and full of hormones and aggressively repressed sexuality. 

Before long, he pulled into the dusty yard of a pretty little brick house. He put the handbrake on and spent a minute trying to tame his hair into something a little less ‘I’ve been sweating in a kitchen all morning’. Like Eren would care. He looked like a fucking hippie most days. In a good way, sure. But still.

It was a big place, not counting the surrounding fields of rows and rows of grape vines stretching as far as Jean could see. He doubted it was all the Jaegers‘, but it was still impressive. The closest house was a miniature square in the distance, just over the low brow of a hill. He tipped his head back, stared at the endless blue and thought that maybe today wouldn’t be such a bad day, despite how it had started. 

He had one last attempt at flattening down his hair, before letting himself out of the van and rounding the back to unload what the Jaeger’s had ordered. Juggling three baguettes and a couple of boxes of pastries, Jean hip-checked the van door shut and made his careful way to the front door.

The house was old, ivy crawling up the crumbling red brick, the shutters on the windows a little bit worn, the paint cracked. It looked rustic, just like everything else out here. There was a lean-to that housed what seemed to be a lot of farming equipment, as well as a number of tall, shady trees all around the house. It was surrounded by a open yard where a couple of chickens were scratching around in the dirt. Jean skirted them carefully - he wasn’t not too fond of birds.

With some difficulty, Jean rang the bell and waited patiently for Carla to open the door and relieve him of his armful of food. The bread smelt good, pressed right up under his chin, and his stomach rumbled unhappily as he realised he hadn’t eaten anything bar a few stolen strawberries meant for the fruit tarts. He was hoping that Carla would take pity on him and feed him as the door swung open and Jean was greeted by Eren’s grinning face and a panting dog. Taken-aback, Jean frowned.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, shifting his load in his arms a little. Eren made a face of mock offence and folded his arms.

“That’s no way to speak to a guy who reliably gives you a morning blowjob.” He said lightly, and stood back so Jean could come in.

“It’s not that reliable.” Jean grumbled, walking past Eren and stepping over the dog, into the kitchen, where he deposited the bread onto the table. An empty plate and half a glass of milk suggested he’d interrupted Eren’s breakfast. “Where’s Carla?” Jean asked, hovering by the table as Eren picked his plate up to drop in the sink. 

“Market. Mikasa’s out for a run. Dad’s in the cellar bottling wine, I guess.” He said, leaning back against the sink and fixing Jean with a slow smile. “We’re alone, for all intents and purposes.”

Jean snorted. “And I’ve gotta deliver the rest of this bread.” He crossed the room and pressed Eren up against the sink, curling a hand around his hip, fingers brushing over the sun-kissed skin. Eren had taken to wearing fucking crop tops recently, since it had gotten hotter, and although they were ridiculous, Jean couldn’t find the strength to complain. If it meant he could see more of Eren’s flat stomach, he wasn’t gonna dissuade him. 

“They can wait ten more minutes.” Eren said softly, eyes on Jean’s lips. Jean grinned and ducked to catch Eren’s lips in a long kiss, pressing against him closer as Eren clung to the front of his t-shirt, tipping his head up and making a hungry little noise in the back of his throat. Jean’s stomach rumbled suddenly, and Eren broke the kiss with a loud laugh, pressing his face into Jean’s shoulder as he groaned in shame.

“I’m starving, sorry.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of Eren’s head as he nuzzled into Jean’s neck. It was warm in the kitchen, the big bay windows magnifying the early morning sun onto them. That, coupled with the heavy warmth of Eren against his chest, was making Jean uncomfortably warm.

“Stay for some breakfast.” Eren mumbled, tugging him down for another kiss. Jean hesitated, but Eren was right, the other customers could wait ten minutes. Who knew, maybe Jean would accidentally crash the van due to hunger and then they’d never get their bread. He took a seat at the table.

“How’s the bread this morning?” Eren asked, his back to Jean as he hunted through the drawers for a bread knife. A pot of jam and another of butter were already on the table, and Jean pulled one of the loaves out of its paper bag to hand to Eren.

“Made with my own two hands.” He said, holding up his hands and smiling. Eren rolled his eyes and put a plate down in front of him, along with a knife.

“Well,” He said, sawing a chunk of bread off the loaf. “I know where those hands have been, so I think I’ll leave it.” He smiled crookedly as Jean flipped him off, before handing him a wedge of bread. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Jean muttered, reaching for the jam. The skinny brown dog that the Jaegers had gotten a few months ago was sniffing around his feet, and Jean covertly fed him a piece of bread, pulling his hand back before the dog licked his fingers.

“Don’t feed Titan.” Eren said absently, poking through the boxes of pastries. “Mikasa does it enough. We can’t sit down to eat without him whining about it.”

Jean shot a disbelieving glance down at the little dog panting by his feet. “Titan?” The dog was one of those scrappy little brown things, so crossbred it was no longer a discernable breed. The dog looked up at him and licked his ankle. 

“He thinks he’s a person.” Eren said solemnly, taking a seat next to Jean and putting his bare feet up in his lap. Jean made a face but left them there, too busy eating to argue. “You got plans later?” Eren asked, picking at his nails. Mikasa, or maybe Eren himself, had painted them a startling red. It looked nice, Jean thought, against his dark skin.

“Gotta take my sisters swimming at ten, gonna help out with the lunchtime rush.” He shrugged and took a bite. “Then nothing I guess.”

“Let’s hang out.” Eren said, curling his toes against Jean’s thigh. He shot him a look through his tangle of dark hair and smirked. “I could take some of my dad’s wine.” Which was code for ‘let’s get drunk and I’ll probably suck your dick in a field’. Jean wasn’t going to try and dissuade him. He nodded and reached for the jam again.

“Sure.” He said absently. “Should be fun.”

“Yeah.” Eren said lightly, swinging his legs down from Jean’s lap and standing to grab Jean’s now-empty plate and drop it in the sink with a clatter. Jean stood as well, catching Eren by the wrist as he went to go tidy away the bread, pulling him close.

“I’ll see you later.” He murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Eren’s lips. Eren gave him a sunny smile and pushed him lightly. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

“Go, you’ll be late and Mr. Leonhardt will kill you, maybe.”

Jean snorted. “You’re right, actually. He might.”

With one last kiss and a wave, Jean was back in his van and turning the keys in the ignition before turning carefully around, not wanting to hit any chickens. 

With the sun shining in his eyes and the endless fields on either side, the car juddering beneath him as he went fast over the potholes, Jean grinned. He thought of meeting up with Eren later, wrangling his sisters into their swimming costumes, seeing his mother’s grateful smile as he returned just in time for the lunchtime rush. Life wasn’t too bad, he thought, as he accelerated on the long, straight road towards his next delivery.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt for a vineyard au which is obviously very loosely used haha 
> 
> comments are always appreciated and please point out any mistakes enjoy!! title from santa cruz by gold motel


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